Shine On You, Shine On Me
by Slushie Addict
Summary: An attempt by yours truly to, for once, write a sad story but failing miserably.


Hey Slushie Addict here! Okay so I'm like, maybe I should try to write more sadder stuff since Heathers is all about death, suicide and shit. I'm actually not good with such stuff, I don't think anyone from where I come from can actually _get_ it. We can get the basics sure, but that's all from reading the terms online. Trust me, the posters in schools telling students not to commit suicide, self harm or signs of someone being depressed, it doesn't actually help us much. (Fun fact, as of 1 March, suicide is still illegal in my country? Yep, it means that you can be jailed for trying to end it all.) Oh what the fuck am I saying, it's all my point of view so why should it be taken seriously? Anyways, please ignore whatever garbage I've said just now and as always, I don't own Heathers.

XXXXXX

"I-I'm going to die alone..." Heather McNamara whimpered, staring down at the bottle of sleeping pills in her hand. She had ran away from the school population after her best friend mocked her for even having suicidal thoughts, and ironically she was about to commit suicide by overdosing on her sleeping pills in a school washroom. "I'm so fucking pathetic."

"Heather?" Heather raised her head, only to see Heather Duke standing at the doorway. "... Is that sleeping pills in your hands? Are you seriously trying to sleep _here_ of all places?"

"... Please go away." Heather McNamara mumbled, her tears threatening to spill out again. _'Damn it, I just stopped crying! Can't believe I'm doing it again in front of her of all people...'_

"Nope." Heather Duke simply said, approaching Heather McNamara and sitting beside her on the washroom floor. Heather McNamara stared at her, as though Heather Duke was some freak in a zoo. "What's your damage?"

"... Suicide is a private thing." Heather McNamara softly answered, her will to commit suicide slowly sapping away. Yes, she was still depressed and wanted to die badly, but somehow taking her own life in front of someone seemed... nerve-wracking. It was as though she was a magic act, and if she failed to take her own life properly, she'll get herself laughed at. Not like it mattered when she died. Heather Duke frowned, and Heather McNamara reeled back as she was afraid of being yelled at. Instead, Heather Duke pried the pill bottle out of Heather McNamara's hands. "... What are you doing?"

"... Something that a true friend would probably do." Heather Duke replied, her voice more gentle than usual. "You... don't deserve this. You're a good person, and I ruined you. So don't kill yourself over me."

"... Why must you make it sound like I'm killing myself because of _you_? You narcissist." Heather McNamara commented, regretting her words afterwards. Heather Duke paused, staring at Heather McNamara in shock. "Just because you're the new captain, it doesn't mean that you're the one who's pushing me to do this..."

"Well, I'm kinda the one who got the whole school to turn against you..." Heather Duke whispered, her hand still holding tightly to the pill bottle. "Yeah... god I suck at this consoling bullshit."

"I-I'm killing myself because I can't take it any longer. So please, just leave me alone already... I've already told you that suicide is a private thing..." Heather McNamara said, trying her best to snatch her pill bottle back from the other Heather.

"Being a part of USA's suicide statistics is probably the least private thing ever." Heather Duke sighed, handing the pill bottle back to Heather McNamara. "Fine, if you wanna die so bad, I can't stop you. Just leave half for me."

"Leave half? Why?" Heather McNamara asked, a disgusted look on her face. "... D-Don't tell me you want to use my remaining pills to help you sleep...? Heather, t-that's really wrong even for you."

"What? Can't I make myself sleep for eternity with the girl I like most?" Heather Duke asked, surprising Heather McNamara greatly. She wasn't expecting a confession from the girl that pushed her to suicide, much less a confession of planning to commit suicide _and_ a declaration of love. "Why the fuck are you staring at me like I have two heads?"

"You _like_ me? Why did you choose _now_ of all times to tell me this?!" Heather McNamara asked the very first concern she had with Heather Duke's confession. After a while, she realised that there was something else that was far more concerning than a mere confession from a girl to another girl. "Wait, you want to commit suicide _too_?!"

"... Is that so surprising?" Heather Duke asked, with Heather McNamara nodding fervently. "How so?"

"F-For starters, you're queen bee now. No one dares to go against you... and also, you didn't care about Heather, Kurt or Ram! Why would you want to die?" Heather Duke chuckled sadly, leaning against Heather McNamara's shoulder. "H-Heather?"

"... You know, I may look like I have it all together but I don't. Do you know why I became queen bee after Heather died?" Heather Duke asked, a question that Heather McNamara didn't have the answer to. Well, not the answer that Heather Duke was hiding at least.

"You wanted to rule Westerburg?"

"That too yes, but that's not the main reason. I was thinking that if I could be queen bee, I could make the school a better place for people to study in. Then we would be more tolerant of each other, and maybe I could tell you that I loved you in front of the school, with me getting rejected and the rest not flipping their shit because I'm a dyke." Heather Duke admitted, her tone was still gentle but there was now a hint of self-loathing in it. "Too bad I'm not Heather, the school doesn't give two fucks about me unless they wanna fuck. They are still the corrupted assholes from before."

"Should have thought of that before getting Kurt and Ram to tell the whole school that Veronica had sex with them. Do you know how upset she was when we spread that rumour?!"

"... It was either hurting Veronica's reputation, or seeing you raped by those jerks." Heather Duke mumbled, shifting her body such that she was no longer leaning on Heather McNamara. "They had a fantasy where they had a threesome with a girl while another girl watched. I volunteered to be the one getting fucked, but they didn't want me due to my gag reflex. Seeing you getting raped by them was out of the question, so I chose to hurt Veronica's reputation. Besides, at least she isn't the one trying to commit suicide here..."

"W-Why didn't you tell me?! If it meant staying friends with Veronica, I wouldn't mind having sex with them..."

"I love you, and I don't want to see you getting hurt anymore." Heather Duke replied, her hands now covering her face. "I mean, Veronica's nice. She's not a bitch and treats me decently, but you're far more important to me."

"... You're probably saying this now to get me to sympathise with you. You're really a narcissist." Heather McNamara went back to accusing the other Heather that she was a narcissist, trying to open the cap of the pill bottle. "Stupid child-proof caps..."

"... Give it here." Heather Duke sighed, extending her hand. Heather McNamara glanced at the hand warily, cautiously placing the pill bottle on the hand. Heather Duke pressed the cap down, then twisted it open. She handed the pill bottle back to Heather McNamara, receiving a soft 'thanks' from the head cheerleader. "Have you ever cut yourself before? I mean, you don't have to overdose to end your pain. Just getting it under control works somehow."

"Yeah, but Dad found out. He took the razors away." Heather McNamara rolled up the sleeves of her yellow blazer, revealing numerous horizontal marks on her wrists. Some of them looked old but the rest were new. "... I used my penknife afterwards... then it also got confiscated."

"... I see." Heather Duke simply said, rolling her own sleeves. Heather McNamara gasped as it was revealed that there were also scars on Heather Duke's wrists, not just horizontally but also vertically. Heather McNamara knew that slitting vertically was much more painful than slitting it horizontally, and like her own, there was a mixture of old and new scars. "I cut myself to have some control over my fucked up life. Apparently, being queen bee isn't a piece of cake. It's a fucking piece of shit, makes me wonder how did Heather managed to last for years before drinking Drano."

"... That looks painful." Heather McNamara wasn't sure if she should ask if the other Heather was trying to make it a competition of who had the most scars, but if she was she would win it hands down.

"At first it is, then afterwards I was numb towards cutting my wrists. So I cut myself elsewhere, right now I'm purging and cutting my thighs." Heather Duke shrugged, rolling down her sleeves. "Why are we here talking about how painful it is to cut ourselves? I'm supposed to be here trying to prevent you from committing suicide."

"... I think you should see a psychiatrist." Heather McNamara finally said, standing up and closing the pill bottle. Heather Duke looked up at her in confusion, though she was relieved that the head cheerleader was no longer planning to commit suicide. Well, at least in the washroom. "O-Our problems may be different, but that doesn't mean you should kill yourself."

"I can say the same for you." Heather Duke laughed softly, getting up from the floor. "I mean yeah, my parents are getting divorced, my grandma who's the one person that I care about in my family just died, I can't lose weight no matter how much I starve myself, I can't control a bunch of seniors and I certainly can't stop thinking that I'm shit... but you shouldn't kill yourself over Heather, Kurt or Ram. And yeah, the bus sucks much which is something that I'll never experience, so I guess you're right about our problems being different."

"... What was that last part?" Heather McNamara asked, now worried for the other Heather. She couldn't believe what she just heard, and honestly she had never guessed that Heather Duke was not how she portrayed herself to be despite knowing her for years. She expected Heather Duke to live up to her reputation as a bitch without any discernible personality, and not being a girl with low self-esteem and familial issues.

"Nothing. I'll send you back home, just for today." Heather Duke glossed over Heather McNamara's question, holding up the keys to her jeep. Seeing that Heather McNamara still wanted to ask, Heather Duke relented. "... Fine, ask me one question and I'll answer."

"H-Huh? I thought I..." Heather McNamara trailed off, while she badly wanted to know more about Heather Duke's reasons for her suicidal thoughts, she had another question that was on her mind for a while. "O-Okay... um, why did you tell Veronica that you're the only one left to be in charge when we were cleaning out Heather's locker?"

"One, I've already said that I want to make Westerburg a better place." Heather Duke answered, her brown eyes meeting Heather McNamara's. "Two, you're a terrible candidate for queen bee. You'll crack faster than a baby chick waiting to hatch. I would prefer Veronica, she would make this place decent... if it weren't for the fact that Jesse James's her school-shooting boyfriend. Who knows what the fuck would he do if his girlfriend is top dog here?"

"G-Good point..." Heather McNamara nodded in agreement, slightly surprised to hear that the other Heather was selfless in her own way. Heather Duke nodded, making her way out of the washroom. She followed after Heather Duke, but was briefly stopped by Veronica. "V-Veronica?!"

"Oh my god there you are! Look, don't follow Heather. She's probably taking you to some bridge and convince you to jump!" Veronica started, a panicking mess as compared to her boyfriend Jason 'JD' Dean, who was eyeing the two Heathers as though they were prey. Both Heathers shuddered as JD smiled back, a cruel glint in his eyes. "Heather, listen to me. If you were happy every day in your life, you won't be human. You'll be a game show host."

"Thanks Veronica." Heather McNamara muttered, hugging her tightly. Heather Duke breathed a sigh of relief, at least she was now positive that the head cheerleader won't be committing suicide any time soon. JD frowned, but turned to Heather Duke with the same smile he had at first. Heather Duke gulped, pulling Heather McNamara away from Veronica. "H-Heather?!"

"Nice to see you Veronica, but we're going to see a psychiatrist. Not a fucking bridge." Heather Duke curtly said, dragging her away from the couple and into her jeep. "I mean what I say Heather, you're going to see one whether you like it or not."

"... What about you Heather?" Heather McNamara asked, putting on her seat belt. Heather Duke didn't look at Heather McNamara, but the latter noticed a pained look on the former's face. "I-I mean, you're already there with me. So might as well get yourself checked too?"

"And what, tell them I whine all night? Even if I'm in need of a light to shine on me, I'm definitely not going to tell them that I cry myself to sleep every night." Heather Duke replied, starting the car. "... Besides, I don't trust them."

"Heather..." Heather McNamara wanted to hug the other Heather and reassure her that she's not the only one who cries herself to sleep, but if she do that while Heather Duke was driving, she would probably cause an accident. "... Do you trust me then?"

"I... probably...? I mean, I told you all that because I thought you're adamant about killing yourself. But well, like I said I love you a lot so..."

"Oh right, that you did... Um, is it a bad time to tell you that I love you too?" The car suddenly swerved, narrowly missing a truck. "I-I'll take that as a huge yes!"

"T-Tell me these things when we're not in a moving car! God Heather, crazy much?!"

"Sorry Heather... Um, so at prom... will you dance with me? A-As girlfriends?" Heather McNamara asked, with Heather Duke's knuckles on the steering wheel turning deathly white. _'... I must be losing it if I'm asking Heather out now of all times.'_

"I don't see why not. If both of us are still alive by then." Heather Duke smiled slightly despite nearly getting them into a few accidents, something which shone a light in Heather McNamara's heart. They managed to survive the ride to the psychiatrist, where Heather McNamara (and Heather Duke) sought help for depression. Anti-depressants were prescribed to suppress the depression felt, and Heather McNamara's parents were called to inform them of the situation (because the Dukes' divorce had a part to play in their daughter's depression). It got better for them, especially after JD bombing himself as it brought them closer to each other, Veronica and even Martha. Fast forward a few months, and the two Heathers were dancing with each other on prom night, never stopping to look at anyone but each other's eyes.

"It's kinda bright in here." Heather Duke commented, her green dress swishing rhythmically to Heather McNamara's yellow dress. They were now officially dating, and thanks to Ram's and Kurt's deaths, people were accepting of their relationship. They were still on anti-depressants, but their depression was improving slightly. At least they wren't trying to enter a lesbian suicide pact like what they had planned at one point during the months after the incident.

"Maybe it's a way of telling us that there's hope even for people like us." Heather McNamara smiled back, her blue eyes roaming down to her girlfriend's wrists. Her wrists were still marked with scars, slowly fading away but never disappearing completely. They were no longer harming themselves, no longer seeking a self-destructive method to have some form of control in their lives.

"... Please don't go all Ms Fleming on me now. I still don't believe that bullshit she made up during the broadcast." Heather Duke rolled her eyes upon mentioning a certain teacher, making her distaste towards her known. Heather McNamara giggled, still dancing to the beat of the music with Heather Duke. They were also still under the spotlight, which neither of them really minded. "Hey Heather?"

"Yeah?"

"Nothing, just wanted to say that I'm so fucking lucky to have you as my girlfriend."

"Me too." Heather McNamara grinned, she really adored Heather Duke. ' _Even if it meant nearly overdosing on sleeping pills after you mocked me for being suicidal, I'll always love you.'_

XXXXXX

Conclusion: I can't do sad stories for shit and I suck at endings. That's all I have to say. And honestly, I may suffer from mild depression, but that doesn't make me a good representative of the mental illness. So yeah... there's probably a hell lot of problems with how it's depicted.


End file.
